


First Impressions (Are Important)

by The_Musketeers_29



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Multi, literally all DAI companions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Musketeers_29/pseuds/The_Musketeers_29
Summary: For the prompt: Hawke brings their LI with them to the Inquisition, first impressions (pref. Fenris, Merrill, or Isabella)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shrystyne](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Shrystyne).



> This fic is part of a (slightly late) Christmas present to my friend Shrystyne. Merry Christmas!
> 
> I obviously went with Fenris (because he's awesome, duh). I've tried to keep Hawke ambiguous (except for the whole being-a-mage thing), so imagine your preferred Hawke.
> 
> The idea of the flower crown part came from an amazing story about Cole giving everyone flower crowns. I found the story! It's "Of Flowers And Happiness, the Elusive Nature of Which" by Kimiko93

After being introduced, Hawke and the Inquisitor went off to speak with the War Council, while Varric forced Fenris into the Herald’s Rest. 

“You should meet everybody in the Inner Circle, but I have a feeling even you’ll get along with this guy, Broody.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow at the emptiness of the corner Varric pushed him towards. “Where is this guy I’m supposed to meet?”

Varric leaned around Fenris to see only Bull’s chair, no sign of Bull or the Chargers. “Damn. I thought they’d be back by now. Well, let’s have some drinks while we wait.”

* * *

Iron Bull and the Chargers piled into the tavern, eager to drink and celebrate after a successful Venatori hunt. Bull stopped short of his chair. “Varric! Good to see you! Who’s this?” He calls, gesturing to Fenris.

“Sit down and I’ll tell you!” Varric managed to not slur his words, despite having downed a fair few drinks in the hour or so spent at the tavern. He waited for Bull to take a seat, then began introductions as promised. “Fenris, meet Tiny. Leader of the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company, Qunari spy, and normally goes by The Iron Bull. The article’s important. Bull, meet Fenris. Came here with Hawke. Tends to glow, which is often followed by people’s hearts being removed from their chests.”

“Really?” Bull seemed excited by the whole ripping-hearts-from-chests thing. “Any chance I could do that?”

“No.” Fenris spoke quietly, but definitively.

Bull pouted, but quickly cheered up as he described the job he and his boys had just finished. Which was followed by another story about killing other Venatori, Krem shouting over Bull whenever he over exaggerated something.

The story ended up being mainly told by Krem.

(“No, Krem, heads absolutely count! Down on the collarbone and through! That Vint spell-sucker lost three limbs in one blow!”

“Heads don’t count, Chief!”

“Yeah they do. Ask Blackwall.”)

Fenris countered with a story of his own about hunting slavers.

(“Heads definitely count.”

“See, Krem! He gets it!”)

As the hours passed, Fenris got caught up in one of the Chargers’ drinking games (he was uncertain of the rules, but far too drunk to care). The evening ended with Fenris passed out amongst the Chargers, Varric smirking as he stumbled away.

* * *

 Fenris woke the next morning wondering, not for the first time, if death was preferable to a hangover. Grumbling to himself as he carefully stepped over the still unconscious Chargers, giving the bed a wide berth – he did not trust that axe. Fenris gingerly walked down the stairs to the tavern, hoping for something to ease the pounding in his skull. Instead, something blonde popped up in front of him on the stairs.

“Name’s Sera. Saw you last night, you know, with the Chargers. Drinking, getting drunk. Glad to see you’re not too elfy.”

Fenris stared at the girl – Sera – in bemusement, requiring a moment to comprehend what she said. When he did, “What do you mean ‘elfy’?”

“Well, you know, elfy. Head stuffed up a thousand years ago and all that.”

“Do you have a problem with elves?” Fenris appeared more confused by the second.

“Not if they’re not too elfy.”

Awkward silence descended as Fenris tried to think of a response. Sera shifted, uncomfortable with Fenris’ blank stare. She tried to think of something else to talk about.

“Sooo…are those tattoos or some freaky magicky thing?”

Fenris and Sera both jumped back as Cole materialised out of nowhere. “Pain, burning, searing, it hurts, why, why, make it stop –”

“What the fuck?!” Fenris didn’t know who or what this was, but he Did. Not. Like. It. Sera was gone, having run off the moment Cole started speaking.

“Why would Danarius do this? Master, please, stop –”

“Enough of this!” Fenris stormed down the rest of the stairs and out of the Herald’s Rest. Hangover completely forgotten, he ran to the main hall.

* * *

 “Hey Solas, come here for a moment,” Varric called as the elf was about to head to the rotunda.

“Can I help you with anything Varric?”

“Yeah. You’ve heard how Hawke and Fenris are here?” Varric actually waited for Solas to nod before continuing, “Do me a favour, and don’t go on about any of that Fade stuff.”

“I do not ‘go on’ about it, especially not if not asked.” Solas wasn’t offended if his smirk was anything to go by, despite the affronted tone he used.

“Oh really? Because I heard the Inquisitor ask you one single question, and you rambled on for over twenty minutes.”

Solas’ smirk grew. “And didn’t your answer to Cassandra’s question ‘where is Hawke’ take around seventy hours to finish?”

Varric’s rejoinder was cut off by Fenris’ sudden appearance in the main hall and the rather pissed expression on his face.

“What is that-that-thing? That demon?” Fenris demanded. “It just popped up, out of nowhere, and starts blathering on about things of which it should have no knowledge.”

“I believe your friend has met Cole.” Solas commented to Varric, who nodded in agreement.

“Who is Cole? And who are you?” The latter question was asked rather more calmly than the first.

Solas and Varric exchanged a glance, before Solas gestured towards the rotunda. “Perhaps this conversation should be held privately? I am Solas, by the way.”

Once the door separating the rotunda from the main hall closed, Fenris rounded on Varric and Solas.

“Cole is, well, special,” Varric hedged, “He’s a good kid.”

Solas cleared his throat, drawing Fenris’ gaze. “Cole appears to be a spirit. He did not come into our world through the Breach, but rather predates it by months, possibly years. My best guess is that he is a Spirit of Compassion. He senses people’s pain and wants to help them. Unfortunately, he does not know how best to do that, which often leads to incidents such as the one you experienced.”

Varric winced at the bluntness of Solas’ explanation. Fenris appeared to be speechless, completely as he attempted to process what Solas said. Varric braced himself for the inevitable explosion when –

“Are you talking about Cole?” Dorian leaned over the railing from the library above. “He’s harmless. Mostly. Unless you give him daggers. Then again, he always stabs the correct people, so all’s well, hmm?”

Solas sighed, “Dorian, we are trying to have a private conversation.”

“If you want to have a private conversation don’t have it in the rotunda.”

“Indeed.” Everyone looked up farther at to see Leliana, gazing down at them from the rookery. “The acoustics in here are wonderful. I suggest you and the Inquisitor keep that in mind, Solas.”

“Ahh, the things we hear in here, right Spymaster?” Dorian snickered. Leliana smiled before returning to her work.

Fenris seemed to have calmed down from his earlier panic and was smirking at the slight embarrassment on Solas’ face, while Varric was outright chuckling as he recorded the event for posterity.

Solas facepalmed. “I need a drink.”

“Did somebody say drink? I have wine up here.” Dorian grabbed a bottle from somewhere behind him, waving it tantalisingly. Solas started up the stairs before Dorian was done speaking.

Varric put a hand out to prevent Fenris from following immediately. “Fenris, don’t kill Dorian.”

“Why would I?”

“He’s an Altus.” Fenris felt his markings light up; he struggled to remain relaxed and listen to Varric, who was speaking desperately quickly. “He fled from his family and Tevinter, and he joined the Inquisition to help stop the Venatori. Dorian’s a good guy. He marks spots on the map where he thinks Venatori may be found; the other day when we were both out with the Inquisitor, he laughed when we killed some. And he hates blood magic!”

Varric waited with bated breath as Fenris deliberated. Breath which was released once Fenris nodded slowly. “I will give him a chance. And besides, he has wine.”

* * *

After several hours drinking wine in the library, the group migrated to the tavern. Solas and Varric went up to get the next round, leaving Dorian and Fenris alone at the table. Dorian leaned across the table, all mirth gone from his countenance.

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to say this. Please don’t interrupt. I only want to say this once.” Dorian drew in a shuddering breath. “I remember hearing about Danarius’ experiments. That man was one of the most disgusting bastards to ever walk Thedas, and his death at your hands was the epitome of poetic justice. I am truly sorry you ever had to go through that, but at least with his and Hadriana’s deaths others will not suffer the same.”  Dorian quickly straightened up as Solas and Varric returned with the drinks, which left Fenris no time to wallow in what Dorian said.

Which may have been his intent, Fenris realized upon reflection.

“Might I join you?” A large, bearded man broke through Fenris’ thoughts.

“Sure!” Varric and Solas shifted their chairs to make room for the newcomer. “Blackwall, Fenris. Fenris, Blackwall. Our resident Grey Warden.”

“Good to meet you.” Blackwall raised his tankard for Fenris to knock his glass against. “Next round is on me.”

“Hear hear!” Fenris lauded as his glass met Blackwall’s. “I’ve gathered that Wardens have a rather high tolerance for drinking,” Fenris added as the bearded warrior settled into his seat.

“Shall we find out?” Blackwall’s smiled gleamed through his beard.

* * *

 Once again, Fenris woke up thinking about the hangover-death debate. This time, however, a remedy was handed to him.

“Wakey wakey, we’ve got people to go and see!” Varric sing-songed as he uncorked a potion.

Fenris drank the remedy as he sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m in trouble for not immediately introducing you to our ambassador. That’s happening now.” Varric explained as he dragged Fenris from his new sleeping spot in the stables.

“How did I end up in the stables?”

“You and Blackwall thought sparring was a good idea. The two of you stumbled over here to fetch his sword and shield, and instead of sparring you passed out in the hay.”

Fenris had no response as he was too busy trying to get hay out of his armor. This took most of his attention until Varric knocked on a heavy door leading off the main hall.

“Good morning Josephine! And Leliana, good to see you too. May I formally introduce you to Fenris, Hawke’s companion.” Varric exclaimed in his storyteller voice. Fenris nodded to the two women in the room.

“Oh my goodness! It’s truly a pleasure to meet you!” Josephine flushed as she jumped up to greet Fenris. “I have so many questions for you.” She emphatically gestured for him to sit.

Leliana chuckled softly. “Oh Josie, you are adorable.” Turning her attention to the stunned Fenris, she nodded. “Good to see you survived your second night in the tavern.”

Fenris did not respond, as Josephine had started asking her questions. Many of them about him and Hawke. Leliana and Varric sniggered as Fenris was bombarded with personal questions about his romantic life.

“How do you know about that?”  Fenris exclaimed in response to the one of the more invasive questions.

“She read it, of course.” Leliana chimed in. “She is such a fan of Varric’s works, after all. And you feature in many of them.”

Josephine flushed even more at Leliana’s words, while Fenris glared at Varric. Varric gulped and slowly edged towards the door, saying “I’m sure you ladies are very busy. We’ll just be going now.”

Fenris rose as Josephine returned to her desk. “We will discuss your writing later Varric,” he mock-whispered as he reached for the door handle. As he opened the door, still glaring at Varric, he collided with someone.

“Watch where you are going!” Vivienne angrily straightened her robes, chin lifted imperiously. She gave Fenris a once over, casting a critical eye over everything from his unclad feet to his disheveled, hay-strewn hair. “You are?”

“Fenris.” He did not like this woman. Pomposity rolled off her in waves. Her bearing reminded him of that of Tevinter Magisters. A great deal more than that of the eloquent drunk he had met yesterday he noticed.

“And what are you doing here?” Fenris noticed her gaze pause on his markings, felt her judgment continue.

“He came with Hawke. I was introducing him to the Ambassador and Spymaster here.” Varric piped up as he maneuvered Fenris away from Vivienne. “Fenris, this is –”

“I can introduce myself. I am First Enchanter Vivienne, Enchanter to the Imperial Court, and the leader of the last loyal mages in Thedas.” Even the way she spoke, so self satisfied, reminded Fenris of Magisters. He could almost picture her walking through the streets of Minrathous, with a little elven girl carrying the day’s shopping.

Fenris was saved from the onslaught of memories and a subtly sneering mage by the appearance of Cole. “Anger, rage, so much rage –”

“Kid! Good to see you. I heard you and Broody here got off on the wrong foot and I want to properly introduce you two. Cole, meet Fenris, Hawke’s partner. Fenris, this is Cole.” Varric motioned between them.

Cole dipped his head, his hat flapping around. “I didn’t know the foot was wrong. I upset you.”

“Hmpf,” Vivienne exhaled annoyedly, “Begone, demon.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“I’m not a demon. And I’m sorry for upsetting you Fenris.” In that moment, he closely resembled a kicked puppy.

Fenris’ eyes flicked between Vivienne, Varric, and finally, Cole. He rolled his eyes but replied, “No harm done.”

“Really? That’s good. I was worried.” With that, Cole disappeared again.

Fleetingly forgotten, everyone was reminded of her presence when Leliana called over to Varric and Fenris, “Perhaps you should go see Cullen?” Recognised as an opportunity for escape, Varric quickly mumbled his goodbyes to the ladies as he pushed Fenris out of the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry about that. I honestly hoped you wouldn’t meet her.” Varric ran his hand over his forehead. “I wanted you to meet Dorian more than her. And he’s a damned Altus.”

Fenris placed a hand on Varric’s shoulder as they walked the battlements. “It’s fine. You couldn’t have known she would be behind the door.”

“Anyway, here’s Curly!” Varric exclaimed as he threw open a door to reveal an extremely tired Cullen seated at a desk.

“Varric, what are you – Fenris? I heard you were in Skyhold.” Cullen came around his desk to grasp Fenris’ hand.

“So, you are the Inquisition’s Commander?”

“That’s right.”

“I thought you hated mages. Yet here you are, working for one.”

Fenris was not sure what reaction he expected; Cullen smirking was not it. “I thought YOU did. Yet here you are, accompanying Hawke. And I’m sure accompanying is not all you do.”

Varric burst out laughing. Fenris’ eyes narrowed as the tips of his ears burned. “You’re different than I remember.”

“Yeah, the Inquisition has been good for him,” Varric said, still laughing.

A soldier came into the office then. Cullen sighed, “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

* * *

The afternoon saw Fenris and Blackwall finally sparring, Bull and the Chargers training nearby. As Fenris and Blackwall took a break, a formidable looking woman walked up. “You are Fenris?”

“Yes.”

“Cassandra Pentaghast.” Cassandra held out her hand for him to grasp. “I’ve heard much about you. It is an honour to meet you.”

Fenris shook her hand, realisation dawning on him. “You’re who interrogated Varric.”

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, yes. The Divine sent me to find Hawke. Failing that, I was to bring Varric to her.”

Fenris grunted in response and turned to resume sparring. Blackwall was an impressive warrior. It was not often Fenris found someone who could keep up with him.

“May I spar with you? Would you mind, Blackwall?”

“Not at all. I want to see this.” Blackwall chortled as he sat near the sparring ring.

Fenris took up his stance, this time facing Cassandra.

* * *

If Blackwall was an impressive warrior, Cassandra was one of the most terrifying people Fenris had ever met. Five bouts later, and he only managed to win the last one. Varric had turned up to witness his humiliation.

“Enough. I think that’s plenty for today.” Cassandra sheathed her sword and went over to the wall where the others were gathered. Fenris took a moment to catch his breath, and didn’t even jump when Cole materialised beside him.

“Here. These make the Inquisitor happy. I thought they might make others happy too.” Cole placed a flower crown on Fenris’ head before he could react and went to give the others their own flower crowns. As Fenris watched, Varric was crowned, Blackwall too – as well as somehow having his beard braided – Cassandra grudgingly accepted a crown, and the Iron Bull was decked out in flowers. Crowns were draped around his horns and he growled at his men to put theirs on too.

“But Chief –”

“Just do it Krem. It’s a gift! You can’t say no to a gift. Besides, they’re pretty.”

Fenris looked at the lunatics he and Hawke had become involved with, and laughed.


End file.
